CORVALLIS -- In seventh grade, Ricky Ortiz hatched a plan with a classmate to own an avocado orchard in Mexico. They spent years picking a location, a name and a chief investor.

Shortly after the 2012 signing day, Ortiz's home phone rang. It was Kansas State coach Bill Snyder offering him a scholarship to play linebacker. Ortiz, then a senior at Southern California's Mater Dei High School, politely declined. He had already agreed to walk on at Oregon State, where a premier agricultural sciences program could prepare him for that career in avocados.

"In the end," Ortiz said, "it worked out perfectly."

Few of Ortiz's teammates know about their backup fullback's entrepreneurial ambitions. The sophomore tends to keep to himself, biding time studying OSU's playbook or listening to music on his orange Beats By Dre headphones.

To most Beavers, running back Terron Ward surmised with a smile, Ortiz is "that crazy kid in the corner of the classroom." The walk-on, after all, sheds his mellow demeanor when he steps on the field. He embraces contact, rushing toward opponents with the reckless abandon of a 12 year old at recess.

More than once in fall camp, cornerbacks and linebackers have complained about Ortiz's intensity. He could hurt someone, they say. Did he forget it's just practice?

"That position, you've got to be one of the toughest guys on the field," offensive coordinator John Garrett said. "You've got to be just callous to contact. That's the way he is. He'll put his face in there."

As a redshirt freshman last year, Ortiz thrived as a gunner on special teams. He was free to run, hit and tackle -- everything he relishes most.

During the offseason, he offered teammates tutorials on diligence. Ortiz was often lifting weights in the Sports Performance Center two hours after fellow Beavers had headed home, starting fullback Tyler Anderson said. Not satisfied with simply completing strength coach Bryan Miller's laundry list of exercises, Ortiz crafted workouts of his own.

"I worked out with him a few times," Anderson said. "He pushed me to levels I had never pushed before."

For nearly two weeks, the 6-foot, 230-pound Ortiz has earned praise running with the starters while Anderson nurses a nagging leg injury. Head coach Mike Riley twice called Ortiz "one of our best overall players" in the past three days. After Friday's practice, Garrett and running backs coach Chris Brasfield leaned on titles like "ironman" and "wonderful team guy" when discussing Ortiz.

Whether such lauds will translate to a significant offensive role, though, remains unclear. Last year, the Beavers seldom utilized the fullback. Anderson, a short-yardage threat when healthy, totaled 11 receptions and five carries on the season. Ortiz has yet to cross the sideline for more than blocking or tackling.

"It depends on scheme and the game plan for that week," Brasfield said. "But I know he can go up and get it done."

As a walk-on, Ortiz faces a harsh reality. He grinds in anonymity, laboring through lengthy film sessions and practices without the luxury of free education.

But Ortiz's workmanlike approach has put him at the top of Riley's list for when a scholarship becomes available. If that day arrives, Ortiz said he would appreciate having earned it. Signing with Kansas State likely couldn't have rivaled the joy of effort acknowledged.

"Honestly, I'm very religious," Ortiz said. "I put it all in the Lord's hands. I'll just continue to do my time and wherever the Lord takes me, I'll go."

He has designs on landing outside Guadalajara, where he will run the avocado orchard he and his business partner will call "Imperio" (Spanish for empire). His friend is transferring to OSU from a junior college so they can more easily finalize plans. His buddy's dad, who owns sugarcane fields in Mexico, has already invested a sizable amount in the budding company.

Sometimes, Brasfield reminds Ortiz to remember him when the orchard nets millions. He wants to try Imperio's avocado dip.